


Mother May I

by GlutenFreeWaffles



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Avengers Tower, Butt Plugs, Cunnilingus, Dildos, F/M, Leashes, Marvel Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Past Abuse, Pegging, Porn With Plot, Sex Toys, Steve eats English muffins, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Sex, buckynat - Freeform, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:23:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlutenFreeWaffles/pseuds/GlutenFreeWaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place after the events of Captain America: The Winter Solider, James Barnes recounts moments of his past during his rekindled relationship with Natasha Romanoff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Mother may I… take five hops forward?”

“No, you may not. But you may take one hop forward instead.”

Her blonde curls radiated as the sunlight swam in them, their sepia aura reflecting the dust particles that danced against her ears. The same ears James would nip teasingly as they lost their virginities together in the dark after hours of the closed roller rink.

Steve was closer now, as he took his one hop towards the beaten brick wall she leaned against. She lifted her chin, looking to James with a hint of favoritism in her round brown eyes. She had always let him win.

“Mother may I take three ballerina steps forward?”

She giggled in harmony with the chuckling Steve. “Yes, you may.”

James flashed his best gapped-tooth grin to her small pearly one before putting his finger to the top of his head and spinning three times in her direction.

* * *

 

He inspects himself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, trying to ignore the vague sense of dissatisfaction that really had no recognizable source. His hair is wet from the shower, some of the longer strands sticking to his forehead. He uses his organic hand to feel his clean shaven cheek, and then runs it over the rest of the grooves and bumps on his face.  
He knows she’s okay with it. They’ve done this dozens of times, never once with complaint, but for some reason this uneasy feeling consistently returned night after night. He takes a deep breath, a breath of self assurance and trust in Natasha, and then drops his towel with a deep breath before slowly opening the door into the bedroom.

She’s on the bed, hair up, legs crossed, and eyebrows furrowed down at a pile of dossiers spread across the bed. She doesn’t look up until he clears his throat anxiously.

It’s been one of those days.

She looks up to see him huddled there against the door, chest and face a flushed pink, with his hands wrung together as he looks down shyly at the floor. This was how he told her it was one of those days.

He was absolutely ashamed of the way he liked to be treated; a guilty pleasure so ultimate he barely even liked to speak about it to _Natasha_. But on the rare occasion they did, she always responded with soft smiles and a gentle scratch behind the ear, voice understanding and loving as it offered nothing but suggestions and comfort.

She slowly uncrosses her legs, leaning forward to pick up the assortment of files. “Hey…”

He swallows, daring to shift his eyes up to make contact, never having felt so vulnerable in his nakedness before. He scratches the back of his neck, voice barely audible when it eventually comes out.  
“… Mother may I?”

It had started as their version of a plea for permission, and in some ways, still retained that intention. While Natasha was careful to never let everything out, she shared more with James than she had to anyone else in the past. A childhood that could only be described as ‘cold’, stemming its roots all the way back to the first few years of her life spent in a Russian orphanage.  
She was uneasy about being touched; physically and emotionally.

So they used the game as a way to read each others terms, making sure nothing risky was unpredictable. They weren’t delicate people, but they definitely had delicate circumstances.

She doesn’t answer verbally. Instead, she lifts herself off the bed, almost catlike in motion, and pads towards him. He hides his face as she reaches up to thumb it, eyes concerned.

“Everything okay in there?” She whispers lowly.

He touches their foreheads and lifts his eyelids just enough to look at her, speaking wordlessly as he swallows and cups her cheek with his right hand.

She lets out a sigh through her nose and gently scratches behind his ear. “Ты такой хороший мальчик, James…”

He whines softly under his breath.

“Yeah… Such a good boy…” She repeats. “I’ll give you a treat for being such a good boy. Would you like that?”

Immediately his face beats red. He hates how embarrassed he gets by it, but his budding erection says otherwise. He’s afraid that if he speaks his voice will crack, so nods with some added enthusiasm.

She licks over her lips, eyeing his naked body up and down before pressing a sucking kiss to his jaw. “Get on your knees.”

He gives a little nod and drops down slowly. She pulls away and heads for the closet. She knows what he likes on days like this.

He waits patiently and watches through his eyelashes as she collects his favorites from the bottom dresser drawer. He likes when she puts them on him, so he stays still as she buckles the collar and leash around his neck and lifts his chin up so she can easily tie on his blindfold.

“Tight enough?” She asks softly.

He nods.

She sweeps behind him, tying his wrists together with a thin piece of black cloth that they know could be easily obliterated by either of them. “What else do you want tonight?”

“Um… r-ring. Please.”

“Okay.” He hears the soft steps of her socks and some rustling. “Just the ring? Or do you want to be under lock and key?”

He shakes his head. “No… just the ring.”

She’s so light on her feet that he almost doesn’t expect it when her hand wraps around his cock, carefully locking the ring in place at its base.

Her fingernails reclaim his favorite spot behind his ear. “Anything else?”

He thinks before decidedly shaking his head. She cups the back of his neck and places a light kiss to his hair. “Okay… Stay here while I get ready.”

It was an odd balance between gentle and risqué; but the limbo made James comfortable. He was lucky enough to be with Natalia again, privileged to be able to restart and salvage their relationship, and blessed to be able to let his walls down around her.

He can hear the sound of cloth against skin as he waits patiently, savoring her smell that lingers near his cheek. Eventually, he feels a tug from the leash, pulling him towards the corner where Natasha’s plush lounge chair sits comfortably. He crawls on his knees in obedience towards the direction, stopping when his chin hits her leg.

She’s sitting down with a new change of clothes. He doesn’t know which top she has on, if any, but her pajama bottoms have been switched out for her loose black evening skirt. He presses forward, blind head easing its way between her spread legs until his lips make the realization that she’s not wearing any underwear.

“… Mother may I?” He whispers.

She tenderly rakes her fingers through his uncombed hair. “Yes, you may.”

He tenses his right hand, keeping it behind his back tight against the cool metal as he leans forward, tongue slipping out as he presses a gentle kiss to the center of her sex.

She pushes into the kiss in encouragement, hand still in his dark wet hair.

He loves her taste. It’s the best in the world.

The kissing becomes rougher with each suck and lick, as if her cunt was a luscious fruit and he’d been starving for days. A quiet moan passes her thick lips as he darts his tongue over her clit, repeatedly flicking it after feeling the hand in his hair tighten.

“Mm… _Fuck_ , James…” She can’t help but grind against his mouth, using her hand to push his head closer.

He swallows her, taking her lips, her clit, every soft pink fold into his mouth and massaging them with his tongue. He can’t taste enough of her wetness. His lips could never tire so long as they’re against her.

Her breathing is short and quick, stomach tightening and hips undulating in a quickening pace as he focuses on her clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard as his tongue ruts quick and fast against it.

“More,” Her body start to writhe, simultaneously trying to keep herself away from the pleasure while grinding into it. “M-more… faster.”

So badly he wants to be able to reach up and touch her. Cup her breast, thumb over her nipple, stroke her side. Pulling at the restraints slightly, he decides against it. He liked the punishing rough sex but he also liked being obedient. And it was just one of those days.

He knows she’s close as he licks up her entrance, his tongue and her pussy soaked with the concoction of saliva and fluid. He quickly shoves his tongue inside, corkscrewing forward until his face is pressed firmly against her crotch. He licks against her warm walls, nose tickling her clitoris with each fast open-mouthed wet kiss.

“Nn-ngh!” She gasps and fists her hand in his hair, rutting against his face and screwing her eyes shut.

He can’t help but smile against her cunt, teasing her with firmer strokes of her tongue as she reaches her hand down to toy with herself.

“Yes, yes! James!” She tenses for a second before he’s able to feel the pulsating waves of her inner walls against his tongue. Her breathing is deep but quiet, crotch still pressed hard against his kissing lips. He pecks her a few times before tilting his head up in her direction, silently asking her permission to continue.

She shakes her head tiredly before remembering he can’t see. “No, baby,” she answers breathily, sitting up and pulling her skirt down. “G-go up to the bed now.”

He stands and counts his steps to her bed, getting up on it and lying down with his head on her familiar lilac pillow. Soon after he feels her strong thighs straddle his sides, and he smiles up into the touch of her fine fingers unraveling his blindfold.

The first thing he sees is that her hair is tousled in a messy bun, and the only makeup she wears is comprised of a thin stroke of eyeliner and soft shade of pink lip gloss. She still has on her skirt, and he can see now that her chest bares a black bra with thin material. They smile at each other; James showing his teeth while Natasha’s lips spread into a grin. She cups his smooth cheek, rubbing her thumb under his eye.  
  
“… I love you,” he whispers into her wrist.

She kisses his head. “I think I just might love you too, James Barnes.”

Once the cloth has be removed, he takes advantage of his newly freed hands and wraps them around her waist, gently massaging her sides, all the while consciously making sure he didn’t press too hard with his left. His eyes shift up towards hers, making sure the movement has been approved. Her grin doesn’t leave her face as she slowly starts to grind into his torso, fabric of the skirt pushed aside so that her bare cunt rubs against his abdomen.

His hand find their way higher on her back until they’re able to toy with the clip end of her bra. He looks up at her with a hesitant glance. “Мать, могу ли я?”

“Да.” Her voice is husky and her breath hitches as he undoes the obstruction. He helps the straps fall down her arms, and as soon as it’s off, he attaches his lips to her nipple, sucking with a harsh breath out his nose, gripping her tighter. Closer.

“You’re very hard…” She observes cheekily.

“And you’re quite wet. I think I have a proposition that works out in both our favors,” he murmurs between her breasts.

She lifts her hips up with a breathy chuckle. “Oh… I’m way ahead of you, solider…” Reaching under herself to hold his stiff cock in place, she lowers her bottom so that his head rubs against her entrance. She bows her head and kisses him, tongue swiping under his bottom lip as she repeatedly teases her hole, slowly taking in his tip and then lifting up; her slick and his pre-cum orchestrating a small ‘pop’ each time they separate.

He moans against her tongue, sucking gently.

Natasha kisses back slowly, feeling whichever parts of his body she could while their naked chests pressed against each other tightly. With her left arm curled tight around him and her right cupping his jaw, she patiently lowers herself down all the way until his cock is fully seated inside of her.

“Natalia…” He lets out a soft breath into her mouth, absentmindedly pushing up against her. She moans softly and lifts her chest up, her breasts brushing against James’ nose as she starts to fuck back on him; her hips undulating in a steady motion back and forth, clit grinding against his skin.

He tries his best to buck up into her with time, but repositions his focus to her chest, attaching his lips to the inside of her tit and rubbing his tongue against it firmly in an attempt to turn her light skin dark.

Her breath hitches involuntarily, hips going quicker while she cups the back of his neck and runs her fingers through the short hair there. “James… _Oh my God_ …”

His breath is picking up now too. Hips bucking randomly, moving for no other reason than to grasp friction against her taint. Her thrusts cause her whole body to shift back and forth, allowing James to catch her nipple in his mouth and teasingly glide his teeth over the hardening bud.

She lets out a little grunt of pleasure, tightening her thighs against his sides and slamming herself down on his cock faster and faster; occasionally staying seated for a longer period of time so she can grind down hard on him.

He moans shamelessly, squeezing her ass tight with his right hand, rubbing it and then reaching further to ghost his fingers over where they meet.

“J-James- I- m’ g-gonna cum…” She gasps brokenly, fucking herself on him as quickly as she can, hard moans fighting their way out from between her lips.

He uses his hands to help her thrusts, holding her cheeks tightly as he pushes and pulls in time with her rhythm.

“Yeah… Yeah- _yes_! Fast-er… F-f-a- _fuck_!”

She stops, cumming with her cunt clenched tight, body upright, and eyes closed. Pushing himself as deep inside her as he can, James shortly follows, the waves her orgasm massaging his shaft so perfectly that not even his cock ring could hold his pleasure at bay.

They stay like this for a long moment. James’ cock slowly softening inside her, watching her stomach as she catches her breath in deep inhalations. Her sweating neck is craned back, shoulders relaxed, lips panting and chest rising and falling.

He cups her breasts before feeling his way down her curves, landing on her hips to help her up and off of him.

She obliges, smile a little goofy as she plops down on his side, wrapping him in a hug and kissing up his cheek.

“Mm… How’re you feeling, Bushka?”

James smiles lazily, eyes lidded towards her. “Tired.”

She reaches down to unclip his cock ring. “Mm… Any plans for tomorrow? I think I’m just going to finish up the cross-analyzation Coulson paired me up with. I’m almost done anyway.” She yawns and places his toy on the bedside table before snuggling into his chest. “I’m starting to miss the field work.”

“I’m not,” he adds in a little too quickly.

She holds her sigh and subconsciously shakes her head as she formulates an answer. “James I- You can’t honestly expect me to sit here looking over files forever. My work is on the field. With a gun in my hand, and you know that.”

He bites his lip, fingers lightly tracing unknown patterns on the small of her back. “I know. I just… I didn’t ever really picture it this way.”

“Picture what?”

“My life, for one.”

She smirks and rolls her eyes teasingly. “Yeah, I’m sure that includes living past 1997.”

“Or 1943,” he swallows, voice slipping into a lower more bitter tone. “Which is what I was expecting… after winning the goddamned lottery.”

She licks over her reddened lips, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. “If you weren’t drafted you wouldn’t have met me. And however special we may both find me to be… I’ll have you know I’m pretty damn glad to have you in _my_ life as well.”

He sighs and looks at her, nuzzling his nose against her forehead before kissing it. “When you’re a little boy growing up in the ‘20s, and… you and all your classmates fantasize about your future… you know, your… house and your job… your 2.4 kids and all that. Most guys, myself included… they- well, let’s just say no one really worried about their wife having some… government-involved life threatening job. And- yeah, yeah, before you say anything, I know you’re not my wife, and I know you’re the best at what you do, and I’m not trying to imply I don’t have faith in you. Because I do, and you know that. Hell, you were a better fighter than me back in 2005 when I was hired to train _you_. But… since the Winter Solider since- well, really since being in war… I’m willing to admit that that stuff scares me.”

He swallows, avoiding eye contact; hands tightening around her as he tries to control his breath.

“It…” He scoffs. “It sounds stupid I guess, I dunno. Here I am. I- I mean I wouldn’t go as far as calling myself a _pacifist_ \- I still sling a gun around just fine, but- I just find that… I guess- I guess, I think I like helping rather than hurting. N-not that there’s anything wrong with what you do. Or what the rest of our ‘superfriends' do. I just don’t think that’s… _for_ me. I figured that out during the war and learned it a bit harder when I got my memories back.”

He holds her a little closer, this time completely conscious about it. “And… I’ve seen enough to know that, no matter how skilled you are, accidents happen. Slips happen. Freak chances of luck happen. And sometimes I find myself worrying… You know? Worrying that you might not come back because you ran into some crazy cold killer… Someone who was like me.”

“James. _James_. Stop talking like that. Don’t do that to yourself.” Her tone is firm but her eyes show the entire spectrum of concern.

“Is it not true, Natalia?” He’s making full eye contact now, lip quivering slightly.

She sets her jaw. He knew she wasn’t one to bullshit him. She never did.

“No,” she says plainly. “It is true.”

He sighs and rubs his eyes, rolling onto his side and wrapping his arm around her. “I have faith in you. I have trust in you. And love in you. But I also… pray for your safety, sometimes. And I’m not asking you to change. I would _never_ ask you to change for me.” He pecks her neck tenderly, voice dropping in volume until it’s barely audible. “I just want you to know.”

They don’t say anything to each other the rest of the night. They both know they don’t need to. JARVIS kindly dims the lights for them, and, though it takes time, they both eventually fall asleep, wrapped close in each others arms.

For James, his subconscious practices its training in recognizing nightmares before he can wake up; turning Natasha’s bloodied corpse into a newly healed hospital patient and wedding proposal (which for some reason, with no explanation, takes them back to the 1940s).

For Natasha, she lies awake for hours. Not bored, for her mind scans quickly over dozens of topics, eyes staring blankly at the view of a well lit New York City landscape generously provided by Avengers Tower. While it had her eye, the Empire State Building consumed the minimal attention of her mind, and instead she listened to James’ soft breathing with her ears and his previous words with her memory.

She really couldn’t sleep.  
It was just one of those days.

* * *

 

“ _James Buchanan Barnes!_ ”

He shuddered. Mrs. Rogers’ angry tone could sound even worse than when Mr. Courtney tried out new chalk on his blackboard.

He didn’t look up at her. He was both too proud and too terrified.

Sarah Rogers stormed up to where he sat in the school office’s chair of shame. “Would you care to explain to me why I had to take my half hour break for lunch _now_?”  
 He scoffed. “Hell if I know. I ain’t the one that called you ‘ere.”

“James, you do not use that language and you certainly do not use it with me.”

“Why not?” He looked up at her, trying to convince himself that his eyes were stained red from anger. “You sure as hell ain’t my mother.”

She always had a way with her; a way that could make your spine tingle without the utterance of a single threat.

“Then pray tell, my child,” she said cooly. “If I’m not your mother, who is?”

“… My ma’s dead.” He spat flatly.

“Yeah. And your pa’s in jail. I suspect that’s why I’m the one they call. So as of right now, you better _treat me_ like I’m your damn mother.”

He looked at his feet, voice vicious with as much resentment a nine-year-old could muster. “Where’s Leeanne?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure the principal tried to call her too.”

He scoffed. “She got no job. If you could come from the hospital how come she can’t find the time of day to do what’s her work.”

“Her _job_ , James, is taking care of the other ten little boys and girls that live with her and need her attention.”

“ _Thirteen_. And that _should_ include me,” he muttered.

She sighed and rubbed her temples. “What did you do James?”

“I didn’t do nut-”

“ _What did you do_. James.”

Her sternness left him quiet for a second, licking over his lips as he tried to formulate the best answer. Of course, he was always terrible at being a criminal mastermind. That was Steve’s department. He was the muscle, Rogers was the brain.

“It was just a little roughhousing. We was playing is all…”

“That’s not what Mr. Kenneally told me on the phone.”

James looked up at her meekly, trying a shy smirk. “… Well… why don’t you tell me what he said first so I don’t give away anything you didn’t know.”

She let out a long exasperated breath through her nose. Before she could uncross her arms and retort, Steve opened the door from Kenneally’s office and shuffled over shyly after seeing the present company. “Hi Ma…”

She cupped the back of his neck and looked him over. James glanced away in an attempt to tame his churning stomach.

“Steven Grant, what on earth happened? Are you okay?”

“Hey! How come you ain’t yellin’ at him!” James pouted.

Ignoring him, she kept her attention on the guilty looking Steve. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s fine… I’m fine. Really Ma. Uh, Buck and I- We and some boys from class were… we were just talking about girls…”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

“And they were- they started teasing me. He just stood up for me is all…”

James rolled his swollen eyes.

“They were teasing you?” Sarah asked.

Steve nodded shortly with his eyes down.

“What were they saying?”

Steve looked between James and his mother, voice wobbling. “I- I just told ‘em which ones I thought were cute and- and they started cracking jokes about me n’ how I’d never get one.”

She sighed. “Firstly, girls aren’t something you _get_ , boys. Do you understand?”

A murmured scoff exited James’ lips while Steve nodded, wide-eyed and plainly sorry.  
She nodded for Steve to continue, who swallowed as the flush in his cheeks got redder.

“I- uh- I told ‘em to lay off. But they wouldn’t listen. Then they started calling me a…” his voice went quiet with the next word. “… f-fag.”

Sarah’s eyes softened, her voice turning into the gentle and nurturing one James was used to hearing her use with her son. “I see. So Bucky- uh… ‘stood up’ for you…”

The school nurse stepped in silently; skillful in her well-oiled actions of paying no attention while dropping an ice bag in James’ hands. He didn’t know whether to press it against his black eye, his bruised cheek, or his split lip.

“Well,” she sighed. “We’ll just have to talk more about this at home after school. Now, I’m due back in the ward in ten minutes so I’ll make it snappy. James, we’re going to need to learn how to control our anger and not turn to violence so quickly. Steve, rather than lettin’ your friend fight for you, you’re going to need to learn how to speak up against those injustices. Fight with your _voice_ , love. Let those boys know that, even if it ain’t true about you, there’s no harm in loving who you want, and sure enough, they’ll stop trying to use that dumb insult against people. And we will _all_ discuss how we talk about young ladies.”

Steve’s entire face had become beet red, and he nodded quickly.

Her lips eased into a smile towards him, bending down to kiss his forehead and whispering. “I love you, Steven. More than the moon and all the stars. Go off back to your classes now. Try to keep Bucky out of trouble from now on? At least until I can get on Dr. Wash’s good graces again?”

“Yes ma’am.” She watched as he gave her a bashful wave goodbye and trotted off. James was left with her and a packet of ice that hurt his hand more than it healed his injuries.

There was a long moment of silence in the office until Sarah checked the time on the desk’s clock and let out a long sigh.

“You’re a good boy James,” she said finally, leaning down before kissing him on the head, same place she had on Steve, and then silently turning her heel to leave.

“Funny,” he said as she made her way out. “Thought this whole shindig proved I’m the _opposite_ of a good boy.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You and Tasha have plans today?”

It was the morning after and Steve was buttering the english muffin that had just popped out of the toaster. If… it could be called a toaster. ‘Toaster’ was probably a drastically simplified and underestimating insult to it. It had to be the most technologically complicated and expensive looking toaster James had ever seen. Apparently, Tony had bought it the week prior after spotting in the window of the Williams-Sonoma on 59th near the tower. This thing was unmistakably and undoubtedly the toaster to dominate all toasters. But to be fair, Steve’s english muffins had never looked better.

“Yeah,” James answers into his orange juice.

“Where are you going?”

His face immediately reddens at the question after remembering the answer. “Uh. Nowhere. I don’t know.”

Steve raises a knowing eyebrow, causing James to sigh in exasperation.

“… Promise not to tell? It’s kind of embarrassing.”

Steve chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “In the last… ninety years? You have beaten kids up for looking funny at me, defended everything I ever stood for without any exceptions, and even helped me take baths when I was ill. Nothing can come out of that mouth that would make me judge you, or provoke me to abuse your trust in me. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“No. But I _am_ Captain America. I’d like to think that holds some sort of merit.”

James chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Oh boy. How do I put this… uh… Natasha and I are- we’re interested in visiting a… sex shop together.”

Steve tries not to look visibly surprised, but James can catch the slight widening of his eyes and the clearing of his throat.

He groans, face heating up. “Hey, lose the face!”

“Bucky, there is no face,” Steve says calmly, putting his mug down. “I’m not judging you. It’s just an interesting mental image.”

“What? Me and my devoted girlfriend exploring our possibilities in intimacy?”

“No.” Steve shrugs with a sly spreading smirk. “You standing in front of a bunch of dildos.”

-

He would have never imagined there could be such a vast variety of shapes, sizes, and colors of fake penises and, as he considered this, he couldn’t shake the memory of the word ‘dildo’ coming out of Steve’s mouth. That was going to be a hard memory to repress.

Natasha was elsewhere, browsing different shelves while James hoped his blush hadn’t gotten too far down his chest. On one hand, he wasn’t embarrassed to be an adult interested about the more… scandalous side of the sex spectrum. On the other, he knew no man with a collar and a chastity device went down in history as being well respected. Well… at least that people knew of.

“Hey look at this,” her voice holds a smile as she comes over holding a box. The picture on the front is of a stool, on which a female model sits with her legs spread. Under her crotch there’s an opening in the seat, and a male model lies down, facing her spread legs.

“Is that a cunnilingus seat?” He raises a brow, inspecting the box.

“It looks fun,” she grins hopefully, though it’s quite apparent they both know James would like it. Sometimes Natasha thought he got more pleasure from eating out than she did.

“I also picked up a new chastity device,” she adds pointedly. “I thought you needed a new one. Did you find anything you liked?”

It was almost like a code. She knows why they’re there. He nods slowly.

“The lady said she has one in the back… She’s getting it right now,” he manages to get out, anxiously wringing at the leather collar in his hand with its tag reading “ _customizable!_ ” still attached.

* * *

 

“I… was wondering if maybe you’d be interested in… topping.”

It had happened the night before. James was sleeping over. Natasha had asked a penny for his thoughts. What she got instead was worth much more than one cent.

Found in the little sex shop off Park Avenue, James had someone managed to research and get his hands on the most generous strap-on the world had to offer. It was a sort of harness shape; with a not-too-big dildo attachment connected on it’s front. The best part, however, was the second dildo protruding on the inside. When bending James over on the mattress and fucking him with a toy from behind, Natasha would have one inside her as well.

Now, James had never exactly been interested in having another man in his ass, but the idea of Natasha dominating his prostate hijacked any better judgement he had. It wasn’t about being penetrated by something phallic, he tried to remind himself. It was about achieving orgasm through the anus. He could do that.

* * *

 

“Alright… I’m putting it on… Ready?”

Jesus, ‘ready’ wasn’t close to describing it. He’d never had anal sex before; well… he’d never been the recipient, rather. In order to prepare, he’d worn a small blue butt plug all day. He wouldn’t lie; the damn thing was not at all comfortable. Even after the burn of the stretch dissipated, he was reminded of the dumb plastic every time he sat down or took a step.

Atop her bed he lies on his knees, ass in the air and wrists under her pillow. He looks behind him to watch Natasha slip the harness on. In a way, it kind of reminds him of the belts on her suit. Just… with more or less plastic dicks hanging off it.

She bites her lips as she positions the inner dildo inside her, sliding it up and up until it’s fully seated and the crotch of the harness is pressed tight against her sex in between her legs. She tightens it around the hips so it doesn’t fall off and can’t help but chuckle to herself, experimentally swaying her hips and watching the dildo swing back and forth.

“Having fun?” James raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a weird feeling! Is that what it’s like when guys are naked?”

“Probably not as heavy.”

She laughs and grabs the newly purchased bottle of lubricant before coming behind him, putting her hands on his ass and squeezing playfully. “You’re really ready?”

He groans and spreads his legs a little. “Only if you are.”

She nods and quietly presses a generous drop of lube onto his crack, watching it ooze between his cheeks and run over the blue color of the plug. “I’m going to pull it out now…”

“Please do.”

“I’t might hurt a little.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

She lets out a soft sigh before easing out the plug with her fingers, watching his rim muscles intently; They try desperately to clench it back in at first, but then eventually spread as they aid her in pushing it out. She puts the toy aside and strokes her fake cock with a wet hand, moaning softly as the movements slightly stir the one inside her.

James cranes his neck to look behind, anxious in every sense of the word.

Slowly, she sits up on her knees, getting into a comfortable position before pressing the tip of the strap-on to his hole. He very gently pushes back until the two of them push together to pop the tip inside.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” she whispers, hand absentmindedly massaging his right cheek as the pale color of plastic slowly begins to disappear inside of him.

He lets out a deep groan and fists the bedsheets. “Fuck, _fuck_.”

“Too fast?”

“A-… A little… Just… keep going but a little slower.”

She obliges, rubbing him soothing as she pushes in, centimeter by centimeter. Delicately and slowly. “Там мы идем ... Очень хорошо. Очень хороший мальчик.”

His breathing picks up and he screws his eyes tight. It hurt so much but he knew once he got used to it, it was going to feel so good.

Natasha hugs his torso once she’s completely inside. “Oh… god James… This feels _good_.”

“Mm, yeah?”

She thrusts slightly and the harness rubs against her clit while sliding the dildo further inside her.

“Oh yeah.”

He smiles cheekily, tilting his head to give her chaste kiss. “Good… I’m happy as long as you’re happy.”

The wait for Natasha to move was unbearable as they allowed his ass to stretch around the toy. Eventually, James loses his patience and shifts back against her. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah… been practicing all day,” he teases with a shake of his rear. “Fuck me.”

That’s all Natasha has to hear to make her sit up, place her hands firmly around his waist, pull her pelvis back, and thrust into him carefully. As the hard object pushes against James’ inner walls, Natasha shudders in pleasure, her own hole wet as in engulfs the slightly crooked fake flesh. After a few slow pumps in and out, she experiments with picking up speed, hands still laid firmly against James’ skin for both balance and detection of discomfort.

James bites his lip, the thrusting ultimately becoming a steady rhythm as he moves up against her undulating body. She emits a low groan, nails digging into his scarred skin as she grinds against her own harness, letting out a satisfied ‘Ah!’ when her G-spot is rubbed at the same time as her clit.   
Pressing back against her, James closes his eyes; finding the sounds of Natasha’s pleasure more enjoyable than the feeling of being fucked in the ass. He tightens his hand on the sheet when a thrust feels particularly arousing, and he concludes that she must have had just brushed over his prostate.

The dildo inside of Natasha’s cunt makes a slick sound each time she lifts off and falls back down on it; the constant pattern of pops and smacks causes James’ cock to twitch in the same time.

“Yeah… _Yeah_!…” Natasha mewls, going faster and faster; calculating her thrusts based on how the material of the strap would rub against her clit.

“Fuck me…” James moans under his breath, propping himself up to give her the better angle.   
 The toy rubs against James’ prostate more frequently as Natasha speeds up, until he’s repeatedly grunting and moaning into the pillow. “Fuck! Fuck! Ye-ah! Yeah!”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Natasha moans, ghosting a hand over her own breast. “Ah, I’m going to cum…”

James thrusts back on her as a reply.

She grips his ass tight, breathing with soft audible gasps that increase in speed until finally she stops with the fake cock buried deep inside James’ ass. She’s breathing deep, strands off loose hair cover her face widely as she humps through her orgasm with a long high moan.

“… Mother may I?” James asks after she’s been still for a few long moments.

After confirmation and a few quick strokes, James screws his eyes as he feels the warm cum ooze down his fist.


	3. Chapter 3

“Barnes.”

He tried not to look up. Tried to keep his face hidden in his notebook. Tried to ignore the way half the class swiveled their upper bodies with knowing smirks.

A hard ruler across his knuckles forced him to look up at Shepard’s ugly pale face into his ugly beady eyes.

“I know you don’t have a hearing loss, James.” He said cooly as the pupil rubbed the red marks on his contrastingly white hands.

“Sorry sir,” James spat in a tone that was quiet but not at all that sorry.

“Don’t throw around words you don’t understand.”

There’s some chuckling from the back of the class. James huffs before he shifts his eyes in an attempt to spy the culprit.

“Mr. Barnes… Why is it that I didn’t grade your current events assignment?”   
  
James screwed his eyes shut, hoping and pleading that if the ignored him then, like the pest he was, he’d eventually go away. Unfortunately that didn’t work. It never worked with Shepard. Six times in the last month, he knew that his 7th grade teacher had deliberately made him the center of attention in order to humiliate him. He only pretended not to care.

Shepard hit him with the ruler again. “Answer me.”

“I didn’t _do_ it!” James cried, hoping if he got the answer out fast enough that the whole ordeal would end sooner.

Mr. Shepard nodded slowly. “And why’s that?”

James was quiet. The truth was because he didn’t care, but honesty was backtalk in Shepard’s ear and the pain on his hands begged him not to risk it.

“I dunno…” He mumbles.

“… That was a rhetorical question. I know why you didn’t do it.”

He could feel it coming. The same feeling he got on Monday when Shepard accused him of being lazy, which mimicked the Wednesday before when he was nicknamed ‘class low life.’

Shepard took in a deep breath and stands calmly. “Please speak with me out in the hall, James.”

He made his way. James sat still.

“ _Now_.”

Reluctantly, he rose from his desk. Kids whispered to each other, eyeing him as he solemnly paraded down the aisle of desks and made his way out of the door Shepard had held open for him.

After the door had closed behind them, there was only silence between the only two bodies in the hallway. Then the sound of Shepard’s rustling sleeves as he folded his arms in disapproval. “I’m waiting.”

“For what?” James said to his shoes.

“An explanation.”

“I don’t got to explain myself,” he retorted.

Shepard just sighed and rubbed his temple. “James, you know what I think when you don’t turn in your assignments? Do you know what impression that gives?” He doesn’t pause long enough for an answer. “It makes me think you’re lazy. That you’re disrespectful, and that you don’t care about learning.”

James wasn’t sure if all of that was true or not, but his tone in general made him spite him.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up.”

Shepard’s eyes widened as he grabbed James arm with a death grip. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

James shoved him away. “ _Don’t touch me!_ ”

Before he knew it, he was pressed against the wall, eyes looking up at his teacher’s fury and arms burning in pain from the tightness of his hold.

“You little _shit_ …” Shepard sneered through gritted teeth. “I’d ask if you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth but I’m glad to know she’s not around to see what kind of irresponsible and disrespectful asshole her kid turned out to be.”

He wiggled and tried to get away, but Shepard was strong against concrete and he didn’t know if he was ready to become familiar with the consequences of escaping.

“How dare you. You come into _my classroom? You speak to me like that?_ ”

James winced at the burn the slap left across his right cheek.

“You pathetic no good hoodrat… You don’t even appreciate my efforts do you? You’re the product of a filthy neighborhood and a broken home… You know what that’s breeding grounds for? _Public menaces_.”

He hit him again. James stopped struggling.

“I try to educate you and this is how I’m repaid? With this _attitude_?” With a strong hand he shoved his student the floor. James didn’t know whether getting up was a sign of weakness or opposition.

“Get up.”

He stayed on the floor.

“ _Get up_.”

After a long moment of consideration, he eventually rolled over and worked on his footing. Shepard just shook his head in disapproval.

“You’re an orphan who’s criminal father killed himself with alcohol. You know what that makes you? _Not worth shit,_ Barnes. You’re not above anyone else, and you will be subjected to the same work as everyone in that room, you understand?”

His face was cut on cheekbone from the second hit. Feeling it made his fingers wet.

“Now get the hell out of my face until you have a current events essay in your hand.”

  
When James didn’t, he once again had to lie to Steve about cutting himself while shaving.

When Mr. Shepard transferred to the high school three years later, James just stopped showing up in order to avoid the promised punishment.

* * *

 

James couldn’t wait for Natasha to get home, the sense of anxiousness and excitement swelled his chest every time she returned from a mission.

This time it had been eight days in Istanbul. Also known as eight lonely nights in New York. She was due in at four in the afternoon, so he took the liberty of letting himself into her apartment and freshening up. He combed his hair nicely, leaving it slightly messy the way she liked it, and waited in a fresh change of clothing for her arrival.

Eventually, at the late hour of 4:28, the tumblers in the door unlock and Natasha steps inside her apartment. “James?”

He emerges from the bedroom, smile brazen on his face as he outreaches the arm holding the bouquet of young red roses. “Welcome home, Natalia.”

A little grin twitches on her face when she sees the flowers, but soon dissipates. “We… have to talk.”

His grin falters as well, and he clears his throat. “Yeah… Yeah, sure. Um, is everything okay? Here- I’m listening- I- Let me just get some water first I don’t want the roses to die too s-”

“I’m pregnant,” she interrupts flatly.


	4. Chapter 4

“… What?” He knows it’s a dumb question, and he’s not quite sure if he’s asking for clarification or repetition, but his heart still pounds in his chest as he waits for the answer.

She shifts slightly and crosses her arms, the motion making her appear self conscious.

“I’m pregnant,” She repeats in a low voice.

“What- H-h-how?”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I mean…” He feels through the roots of his hair. Was that sweat? “How… how could you- you take pills I thought you took pills… What’s the point of inventing birth control pills if they don’t… control birth?”

Natasha frowns. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm…” He says somewhat frantically.

She sighs and rubs her temple. “I’ve been flying around a lot lately. Time change… Must have forgotten a dosage.”

“Just one?”

“That’s all it takes.”

He’s quiet for a minute. Looking down at the roses and trying to wonder which part of this situation is making his stomach feel sick.

“… Look. I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Fuck… Natalia-”

She doesn’t stick around. She walks into her bedroom and strips down before curling up under the covers. James follows quietly, leaving his cellphone in the kitchen and not bothering to check it again for another few days.

* * *

 

“What’s up with you Buck? Where’ve you been?”

James looks up from his drumming fingers. Steve’s expression was both concerned and a little annoyed; the two hadn’t spoken the last few days and Steve had definitely taken note of it. It wasn’t until James called to stop the copious amounts of texts that they actually exchanged words.

“Sorry just… Natasha hasn’t been feeling well.”

Steve frowns. “She okay?”

“Yeah…” James sighs and glances at the menu, looking at it but not reading.

Steve takes a sip of his soda and leans in to get his friend’s attention. “I was worried about you, you know. Thought… maybe you were pissed off at me or something.”

“Nah…” James shook his head with a sad smile. “Just had my mind on other things. Sorry pal.”

“You’d tell me. If I ever did anything to make you take up the silent treatment?”

James smirks, genuinely this time. “I think that’s kind of a… what’s it called, paradox?”

“Why’s that.”

“Well, if I’m so mad that I’m giving you the silent treatment, how do you expect me to tell you that you upset me?”

Steve chuckles. “Fair. Faulty logic. But… in all honesty. I wouldn’t want you to keep quiet and suffer silently.”

James exhales softly, simultaneously deciding on the burger and running the thought ‘already been there, Stevie’ through his mind.

Steve bites his lip. “In all honesty, Bucky… I worry about you. You know, you’ve been through a lot. _We’ve_ been through a lot. And sometimes not hearing from you for a day or two, well… it gets on my radar.”

James watches the straw in his ice water display a perfect example buoyancy. “So… guess I can’t get rid of you that easy,” he teases.

“Don’t be stupid,” Steve scoffs.

James licks over his lips, still looking into his glass, muttering absent-mindedly under his breath. “… Yeah that’s me… _Stupid_ me… Getting myself pulled into war… getting _kidnapped_ by Nazis… Not wearing a goddamned condom during sex… Unable to stay with a single therapist for more than five fucking-”

“Woah, woah, wait. Go back. What was that about a condom?” Steve gives his friend a serious look and lowers his voice. “… When did you not wear a condom during sex?”

James sighs. “I usually don’t wear a condom during sex,” he answers truthfully.

Steve shakes his head. “You’re going to get a girl pregnant that way.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Oh my God… You didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“… Is… Is Natasha pregnant?” His voice is low; pensive but not threatening.

“No,” James answers shortly, avoiding eye contact.

Steve clenches his jaw. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Then why won’t you look me in the eye dammit!?”

James glares at him challengingly, voice augmenting to match Steve’s. “I _ain’t_ lying!”

“Look at me and answer then! Natasha’s pregnant, _isn’t she_?”

“No, she’s not! _She’s not anymore_!”

James feels the rushing chill go through his body as the words leave his mouth, and he can see by the way Steve falters and shifts that he felt it too.

“Oh… _Oh_. Buck…” Steve’s tone is aimed towards apologetic but James isn’t having any of it. His brows are knit, arms crossed defensively as he desperately tries to look at anything but Steve.

“… She… She’s usually good with her birth control, you know? We never had a problem. Then she… she goes off to fucking Istanbul and the time change… y-you forget _one_ pill. What are the odds? One pill at the right time and… it’s _all_ fucked up…”

Steve is quiet except for a small sigh as he watches James’ trembling lip.

“I-… I didn’t even know- what to say. She comes in the first thing she says is… ‘I’m pregnant.’ I couldn’t even get a word in after that; it was all… ‘I’m not keeping it. But I thought you should know.’ I mean… not that I would’ve fought her for it. Two of us? We’re not ready to be parents together. And, I mean, of course she gets the ultimate choice but-…”

Steve bites his lip. “But what…”

Bucky looks down again, finding eye contact nearly impossible at this point. “I don’t know… I- I want Natasha to be happy no matter what. That’s my main goal. It’ll always be my main goal. It’s just funny you know? I… I never really thought of myself as being, like, a _dad_. I mean, when we were little I did of course. You know, everyone back then did. But… even though I can’t see it… can’t imagine it, even with Natasha… I can’t help feeling like… like I should’ve had a _say_. Jesus, you’re probably judging us…”

Steve looks at him incredulously. “Bucky, I would never.”

“Bullshit.”

“ _Buck_.” He sighs and takes his flesh hand in his, holding it supportively, thumbing over his knuckles. “It’s going to be okay. If it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen when you’re both ready.”

“But that’s just the thing…” James looks up from his hand to Steve’s face. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I- I don’t even know if this is something I’d _want_.”

“Well it’s too late this time around,” Steve points out.

“Yeah…” James swallows around the lump in his throat and gets up, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Steve’s face crumples, and he stands to aid him. “Hey… where are you going?”

James tries to answer. He tries to say ‘bathroom’ instead of ‘outside for a smoke or seven’ but the words refuse to pass his lips. Instead, he’s left stammering with a stupid wet lower lid and Steve’s hand feeling his stupid arms.

“Hey…” He croons in that stupid sensitive voice he always uses. “It’s okay… It’s going to be okay…”

James can’t hold the façade much longer. He can’t stand there and say ‘fine’ when everything wasn’t; even if the culprit wasn’t exactly clear. He finds Steve’s torso through his blurred vision and grips him tightly in a hug, hiding his face in his chest, trying not to get it too wet.

Steve doesn’t even hesitate. Soothingly, he rubs a hand and down James’ back. He doesn’t say anything. He knows he won’t stand for anything but silence.

It was just one of those days.

* * *

 

“James, what are you doing up?”

He turned around, dreading to face the tired voice of Mrs. Rogers as she stood there, eyes drooping and arms slack in the doorway to her kitchen.

“… Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, closing the door of the pantry. There was nothing he could really eat anyway. What they didn’t savor, he’d have to cook. And he couldn’t cook.

She yawned and shuffled into the living room, plopping down on a chair and moaning. “It’s too early for this James. Please go back to bed.”

“… Hey, I didn’t purposely wake you up, alright? I couldn’t sleep, thought… I don’t know… Maybe there was something I could do in here.”

“Such as raiding my kitchen?” She raised an exhausted brow.

“… Whatever,” he huffed, making his way back towards the room he shared with Steve.

“James.” She stated sternly, crossing her arms and giving him a look. “You’re not going to get away that easy.”

He scoffed. “What are you even talking about?”

“Something’s bothering you.”

“Yeah, no shit. I told you I can’t sleep.”

She sighed. “Fine. We don’t have to talk about it.”

It was hard to leave, and he resisted staying after that challenging comment. “What makes you think I got something to talk about?”

“… Honey, it’s okay to be upset with what happened-”

“Shut up. You don’t get it.” He stood there by the door, still and silent, almost as if he was immobile due to slipping out of his own reality.

“… Then explain it me,” She whispered in concern.

James forgot how he got there, but the next thing he knew, he was wrapped in Sarah’s arms, crying. And she held him, and she hushed him, and she rocked him. The numbers on the clock became meaningless, and time slipped away as he stained her blouse with his tears and let himself be held.

* * *

 

Natasha hadn’t gotten out of bed since she came home from the doctors, so James wasn’t surprised when he opened the door to find her curled up under her white covers, clinging onto the pillow he occasionally called his own.

He slips in quietly, knowing it didn’t matter how stealth he was because Natasha was notorious for sensing people around her. Steve had been hesitant about dropping him off after lunch. He had wanted to come in as well. As far as James was concerned, he was capable of mending ties without Steve’s help.

He pulls down his jeans before placing a delicate hand on her shoulder, kicking his shoes off and then lifting the comforter in order to get himself under it as well.   
She remains completely still; red hair wavy, damp and unbrushed.

He scoots closer to her, placing a delicate kiss to her shoulder blade. The last time he tried this, she’d pushed him away. He didn’t fight. Didn’t protest.   
But there was a sense of barrenness this time. A need for solace.

“… Mother may I?”

She stills and then turns to face him, her nodding eyes granting permission before curling into his side and holding him tight.

It was just one of those days.


End file.
